


The Final Draft

by SioDymph



Category: BoJack Horseman
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cancer, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Couple, Mentions of Cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23071528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SioDymph/pseuds/SioDymph
Summary: When Herb comes to Bojack with what he's calling his "Final Masterpeice", Bojack struggles on whether he should be honest with his husband or not...
Relationships: BoJack Horseman/Herb Kazzaz, Bojack Horseman & Herb Kazzaz
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	The Final Draft

**Author's Note:**

> So right now I'm inbetween a ton of stories but I couldn't resist writing this after I got inspired reading some amazing Bojack/Herb au's!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"So BJ, what do you think?"

This was the part Bojack had been dreading. As he slowly read through the first chapter of Herb's story he could feel the other man's gaze over his shoulder. 

This new project. It was really something... And Bojack wanted to be nice to Herb. He wished he could just be a good, supportive husband and tell Herb how awesome his new book was. God knew Herb needed some good news and positivity.

But the honest truth was this story was not Herb's best work. 

If anything it was probably the worst thing Bojack had read in a long time. And that included his Dad's manuscripts and the original Scretariet script from the 90's.

Herb's new story was childish but condescending all at the same time. The narrator's personality kept changing for no reason. And the whole chapter he read was horribly disjointed. Scenes jumped all over the place with no clear direction. 

The worst was all the elipses physically written out as "Dot Dot Dot".

It was bad. Like really bad.

But there was no way he could tell his self-conscious, cancer-ridden husband that.

Herb was right there waiting though. Propped up on a mountain of pillows, hands bunched up in the soft comforter on his lap. Eyes sparking with this hopefulness.

The longer Bojack stayed silent the more that hope faded from his eyes.

Internally, Bojack berated himself for not saying anything right away. Now Herb was getting sad and second-guessing himself.

Bojack hurried to say something, anything coherent. "So, uh, it's certainly interesting. Umm the time jumps right away in the first chapter seem like a neat choice."

"What time jumps?"

Shit. "Uh, I think-"

"BJ?" Herb asked, grimacing, "You don't like it, do you?"

Bojack felt frozen, like he was caught infront of highlights. If he said yes, he'd be completley lying. But if he told the truth then it'd break Herb's heart. And the longer he waited to answer the more he was hurting Herb.

So trying to be as fast as he could, Bojack scrambled to give him a good answer. "It's good. It's... unique. And i'm sure it's gonna be a big hit once you're done editing."

Bojack thought that would be the good thing to say. He was sparing Herb's feelings this way. 

And for a moment it worked. Herb smiled at Bojack. But that smile became pained as tears pricked Herb's eyes and he was quick to cover his face.

"Goddammit!"

Setting down the laptop and stumbling up onto the bed, Bojack tried to get close to Herb. "Shit, what's wrong?"

Herb just cried into his hands. Crying so hard he started coughing.

Reaching out, Bojack leaned over and carefully wrapped his hands around his husband. "Herb, talk to me. Please?"

It took a few moments but eventually Herb was able to get his breathing slightly-stable. 

"You fucking liar!" Herb whined as he tried to push Bojack away. 

And even though Herb wasn't strong enough to even jostle his grip, Bojack was quick to let go of him. "Herb listen-"

"You hate it! Don't you!"

"It's..." Bojack struggled to say something. "It's kinda rough, but I'm sure once you edit it-"

"I've been editing for months! That was the final draft, asshole!"

"Oh..."

Awkwardly, Bojack tried to figure out a new approach as his husband continued to cry quietly. "Don't be hard on yourself! Everyone has a shitty story or two. Doesn't mean everything you write is bad."

"You don't understand! This has to be good. I have to make it count!" As Herb continues his voice grows quiet, "This could be the last thing I ever write..."

"Hey! Don't talk like that." Bojack was quick to say.

"You know it's true BJ!" Herb argued. "I mean... I mean, just look at me!"

Impulsively, Bojack turned to look at his husband closer. In just under a year he'd completley changed. Herb had never seemed so thin and frail. His skin looked ashen, almost-transluscent. And his eyes seemed sunken. It was like he was a skeleton. Like he was already dead...

But in the back of his mind, Bojack could still see that bright, happy, energetic man he'd fallen in love with all those years ago.

He hated how different the two images seemed now.

"Your doctors said you could still make a recovery." Bojack said, trying to appease both Herb as well as himself.

"They also said there's a chance my body will still resist treatment and continue to destroy itself." Herb continued bluntly.

"Come on, Herb!" Bojack said, patience growing thin. "Aren't I supposed to be the cynical one? You gotta have a little hope here, right?"

"I can't afford to be hopeful." Herb answered coldly. There was such a bitterness that came through his voice. "If these really are my last few months then I have to make it mean something! For god's sake! I can't just lie in bed all day, waiting to die!"

Bojack wanted to respond. But he couldn't think of anything to say. He knew Herb was always one to be out in the world. Trying new things. Meeting new people. Starting new projects and charities. Being restricted to his bed, only leaving for visits to the hospital, it all must be hell for him. 

"I- I have to fix this! I gotta make it better! Cause if I don't-" Herb almost choked on the words and more tears spilled down his eyes. "If I die right now, then the only things I'll be remembered by are a dumb tv show and this shitty book!"

With that, Herb broke down in another round of sobs. And not being able to think of anything else he could possibly do, Bojack moved over and wrapped Herb in another, much tighter, hug. 

"I thought I was a good writer!" Herb said, voice muffled in Bojack's sweater. 

"You are." Bojack replied.

"You read that crap! That was not good writing!" Herb said, getting angrier but refusing to fight out of Bojack's hold "What the hell's wrong with me? This could be the last thing I ever write and it's horrible! I- I don't understand..."

Bojack was pretty sure he knew the answer. But he didn't know if telling Herb why would make him feel better or just send him spiraling further down.

"I thought I was a good writer..." Herb repeated whistfully. "I thought there was at least one thing I was good for."

"Herb, your an amazing writer. But it's not the only thing you're meant for." Bojack said with a groan.

"You keep saying that but the writing's on the wall!" Herb snapped. "And it sucks!"

Sighing, Bojack descided to be honest. "Herb listen, you've been under a lot of pressure."

"No shit, sherlock."

"Let me finish. These past couple months I've noticed something; everytime you get back from chemo you've insisted on getting that laptop out and writing. All your nurses keep telling you to rest but you just sit there and write and write."

"So?" Herb said defensivly. "It's not like I can do anything else from a bed."

"But it keeps you awake." Bojack argued. "I'll be honest, even I'm getting more sleep than you. And that's really saying something. You'll just write all night if no one stops you! Between the chemo and all the writing you've been running on fumes..."

The look on Herb's face breaks Bojack's heart. The slow realization. The hurt. And then total disgust.

"So that's it. It's too late for me to try making anything?" Herb said, not even looking up a Bojack anymore. "I'm just... too sick to make anything good?"

"No. You've just been so exhausted-"

"I'm always exhausted!" Herb snarled. "You don't get it! You'll never understand! I- I'm tired all the time! It never ends, and it drives me insane!"

Bojack wanted to argue back but Herb was right, Bojack had no idea what it actually felt like to be going through chemotherapy. The closest he'd ever experienced was the one time he'd gone through a detox after a bad trip. Bojack had felt like total shit the whole time, only being able to puke up his guts, switch between shivers and hot flashes, and sleep. But that detox had lasted less than a week. Herb had been living like this for months now.

"It's more than that though." Herb continued, softly and sadly. "I use to love writing. It helped me share all the ideas in my head. It helped me escape. And for months now it's been the only way to stop thinking about all... this. To just pretend I was someone else in a different life."

An idea came to Bojack, but seeing how most of his ideas had been failures so far he wasn't sure how well this would go over. "Well... maybe this could just be your thing?"

"But it already is mine. I wrote it."

Bojack huffed. "No, I mean like maybe this doesn't have to be some big, best-selling novel. It could just be something you do for yourself cause it makes you happy. They don't have to like it, I don't even need to like it. As long as you do, fuck whatever anyone else says. They don't have to know about it. You don't have to publish anything."

Herb was silent as Bojack talked. But while waiting for a responce he shook his head. "No... I get where your coming from but I- that's not what I wanted this to be. I needed this to be something I could share. Something to act as my legacy..."

Bojack hummed at Herb's repsonce. He had a point there. If he were honest neither of them would have done Horsin' Around for as long as they did if they didn't have such a big audience for it...

Herb sighed, while glancing over at his laptop. "I'm sorry for snapping at you and being like this. All over some shitty book."

"It's not the worst thing in the world." Bojack said but stopped when Herb gave him a grouchy look. "Ok, right, no lying. It's really rough. But... maybe if you do some editing-"

Groaning, Herb laid his head down on Bojack's shoulder weakly. "You keep saying that but editing sucks so much. It's honestly the hardest part! I keep looking at the same lines over and over until none of it even makes sense to me. I've been trying to get this mess of a story together but none of it makes sense!"

On impluse, Bojack almost offered to edit it himself. But that was a bad idea. They both knew he was no writer. He hated sitting down for long periods of time and lost interest quickly. Plus he didn't actually know what Herb's story was even about. How could he expect to fix a story he didn't even get?

But then an idea came to him. "Maybe we can find a good ghost writer?"

"BJ, I don't need help writing." Herb said. "Besides, this shit-show is probably as good as it's gonna get."

Bojack was temped to tell Herb he did in-fact need a ghost writer but refrained from saying that. At least not so bluntly. "Maybe. But maybe they could help you edit this thing and make it readable."

Herb thought for a moment. "I'm not even sure... What if we do get a ghost writer and they take one look at this mess and tell me it's a lost cause?"

"That's why I said we'd get a _good_ ghost writer, not some asshole." Bojack clarified. "And once they edit your book then maybe we can get it published like you said."

"You really think it's possible?"

"If my Dad could spend 40 years on a single, shitty book and somehow get that crap published then I bet we can get this printed, paperback and hardcover." Bojack said, almost teasing. "In the meantime, you can catch up on your sleep. And when you're up for it, you write more stuff and stop hyper-focusing on this."

"Like what?"

"Anything you like! Anything you feel like writing about. Whatever makes you feel happy."

Slowly, Bojack let go of Herb, but Herb stayed there leaning against him.

And he still sounded unsure. "I never liked the idea of needing a ghost writer. It makes me feel like... Like i'm not enough, you know?"

"Hey on Horsin' Around you had a whole team of people, right?" Bojack asked.

"Well... yeah. I wrote the pilot myself but for the series I was a co-writer." Herb replied.

"Then just think of it as hireing a co-writer to help you get the story finalized." Bojack said, honestly a little suprised at himself. "Wow that was actually a good point! Way to go, me!"

"Yeah, it was." Herb said tiredly as he shuffled away from Bojack and lying back down. "Maybe you should go into life-coaching or something."

"Oh please! I'm the last person anyone should be going to for life-advice and we both know it!" Bojack said, laughing a little at himself.

Herb laughed a little too before breaking into a fit of coughs. He was getting tired and would need to rest soon. But he still insisted on talking even as his voice got raspy and quiet. "So... you'll find me a co-writer?"

"Yup!" Bojack said before turning the questions on him. "And you'll take a little break from working on your crumpet-story?"

"Sure, we'll see how it goes." Herb relented. But he frowned as he realized something. "Wait, what was that about crumpets?"

"You had this whole part remember? The little boy being hungry for crumpets?"

Herb groaned and draped his arm across his face. "I don't even remember writing about crumpets! Where was it?"

"Near the end of the chapter."

"God I really need a script doctor." Herb said with a sigh.

"Good thing I'm gonna go find you a co-writer. And I promise you, I'm gonna find the greatest, most-amazing writer to help you finish your book!"

"That's a big promise." Herb said with a chuckle. 

"And I intend to keep it!" Bojack declared, hopping off of Herb's bed. 

Herb's eyes slipped close, but for little while he was still awake. "Where are you even gonna find this writer?"

"I dunno, maybe I'll go reach out to that publishing company I almost signed a deal with."

"Back when you were trying to write a memoir?"

"Yeah, those guys!" Bojack replied. "You think they're still in buisness?"

"Hope so..."

"Me too, that'd be a good place to start looking for the right writer. Heh, right writer, that's cute. I bet you could make a joke with that phrase. Huh Herb?"

Herb never responded. As Bojack looked over he realized his husband had fallen asleep. 

"Oh. Goodnight, Herb... love you."

Silently, Bojack made his way out of the room and towards the nearest phone. He had a few calls to make.


End file.
